Memories
by Yanna-chu
Summary: A story about how Henry Townshend and James Sunderland get to know each other better in the first place. James x Henry, M/M slash
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_This is an old piece I discovered while tidying up my hard drive. I thought that deleting it would be a shame, so I hope someone likes and enjoys it._

* * *

The door clicked close behind me with almost startling noise that echoes through the empty hallway. I took a cautious look around, the stark hall stretching out in front of me. The white walls contrasted the dark wooden floor and my eyes lingered on the wall opposite my front door.

The peephole glinted brightly back at me, showing my own twisted reflection to me and I took an unnecessary large gulp of air.

After halting my movement for another minute I turned around to lock the entrance to my apartment with a final clicking of metal on metal.

I walked towards the flight of stairs and stuffed my bunch of keys into the inner pocket of my light leather jacket that I always fetched out of my closet whenever autumn came around.

My camera was dangling down from my neck only held up by a string that was attached to its carrying bag. It beat softly against my chest as I dismounted down the stairs.

That day I had a special place in mind- Toluca Lake in Silent Hill. It wouldn't be the first time I went there really, I remembered bitterly. Walter Sullivan was dead and gone. There was no more danger there. No locked and barred doors, no smell of rotting flesh and no groaning ghosts, but still I was uncomfortable.

There had been occasions where I just kind of drifted me over there even before the whole incident. The landscape was vacant, void of people. The fog that clung to the little town due to the increased air moisture caused by the Toluca Lake always had a nice touch in my opinion as well.

The only people I ever met there before the whole incident were tourists and father Vincent, whenever I neared the church in the center.

Even after it I went as far as to visit and wander through the place aimlessly every once in a while, trying hard to get over my own issues faster, although I always tried to avoid putting myself into any situation I wasn't sure I could deal with.

My current boss assigned the lake to me, but like I mentioned before, I don't despise the village in itself, even if I was sort of forced to go, due to my job as a freelance photographer.

So I knew the reason for the cold shivers that had went down my spine every time the name Silent Hill wandered through my head very well. It was only natural to be afraid I told myself several times. The fear wasn't really unreasonable but I wouldn't let it drive me. It was simply something I needed to get over with. I repeated the words dead and gone in a low mumble like a mantra.

Though the forcefulness of the whole situation put more pressure on me than I would have liked I was somehow thankful for gaining one more paycheck and distraction.

Whenever I was at home waiting for job opportunities I eventually ran out of means to busy myself. I couldn't even recall how many times I rearranged my CD's and books by titles. The outcome would always be the same; having too much time on my hands never ended well on my end.

The "Walter Sullivan case" changed me. I tried to be around people more, but at the same time I grew even more cautious of strangers. I hated how random touches would make me jump even though I tried to suppress it every time.

Old Henry Townshend didn't fit to well with a lot of people, since as long as I could remember, actually, so it wasn't that much of a change. My shy and introverted characteristics made me look boring and it only got worse when people mistook my coy antics for the snoopy, stuck up artist attitude.

As I went down the last steps of the wooden stairs and across half of the entrance hall I saw a somewhat familiar face. A rather tall grown man was crouched down by the mail box.

He had a blonde shock of hair and broad shoulders. His green eyes sparkled lightly as he turned around to bob his head in silent greeting.

"Hey. How are you?" While he was furthermore concerned with his handiwork, he managed to sound interested.

"I´m fine." My voice came out worn and tired. That was a state that I found myself in almost all of the time since the past few months. "What about you?"

James had been a new face around there, the son of the superintendent Frank Sunderland. The man had moved into one of the apartments just months ago – to be near his father I figured for myself.

Eileen told me that he had lost his wife half year before he moved to South Ashfield Heights. With his near past still in mind the smile he flashed my way seemed awfully fake.

"I´m fine." The blonde shifted through the little red toolbox that was sitting next to him on the ground, searching for a needed tool.

"So, what are you doing?" It sounded incredible lame even to my own ears, but a casual talk every once in a while wouldn't do any harm.

"The mailbox is acting up again." James browsed through the tool box once more. Silence surrounded us and it was only disrupted by a metallic clanging every now and then.

Suddenly I stood there somewhat embarrassed, feeling incredible stupid for just watching him do his work. I had missed my chance to walk out by now as well.

Finally he found the screwdriver he had been searching for what felt like forever. The other continued on with his task.

"So you are on your way to a shoot again?" James asked without looking up. I was surprised he even knew that I was still present, because I seemed pretty invisible to myself.

"Yeah..." Way to kill the chance to start up a conversation with anyone but Eileen that I had had since a while.

"Where to?" The other male probably wanted to be nice. In his eyes I must have looked like a loner. I wasn't a social guy, not even close. The only persons I spoke to were the superintendent and Eileen, my total-out-of-my-class-neighbor. Frank probably instructed him to do so to begin with.

Good old Frank. He was a little on the strange side especially since my newer discovery of his possession of an umbilical cord put him there even more so, but all in all he was a kind man, withered by time and the worry for his only son that had been lost for two years.

"Silent Hill. Toluca Lake to be precise." Silence fell over us once again. The screw he seemed to twist with new vigor squeaked in protest against the forceful handling.

"Oh." I could have sworn he paled quite a few shades. Suddenly his movements almost looked frantic, but I could be wrong. My hands began to fiddle with my car keys as the silence stretched further.

"So...I guess I´ll get going now..." I had to, too. I wanted to photograph the scenery with a sunset setting. It was afternoon already and I took one whole hour of car drive to get there. I inched towards the door slowly.

"Henry?" The handle of the door felt cold on the skin of my hands as I pressed against it.

"What is it?" When I turned again, I found him staring at me intently.

"Be careful, alright?" My answer was a quiet "sure" and although it seemed like he had more on his mind that he would like to get out, I left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The drive to Silent Hill was a stretched out and unpleasant one as always, the quiet music lulling from the radio broken by soft white noise every once in a while.

As I fixed my equipment and checked it twice just to make sure, I wondered what might have been on James's mind earlier. The troubled look he had given me had been something I hadn't seen in his features as of yet. Telling people to be careful while they are going out somewhere wasn't really an unusual thing to do, but underneath the statement lingered a tone that I couldn't place clearly.

A fleeting thought told me that maybe he knew of the dangers that this town once possessed or the madman who was raised there, but I got rid of it right away. It was just too unlikely of an option.

As the afternoon came and night broke, I packed up my stuff and went back to drive my car home. I was careful to drive slowly, since I wasn't really in a hurry anyways.

Once I got home, I went into the kitchen and made some food. The coach seemed soft against my strained muscles and the food tasted rather good.

The clock above my TV read 10:30 pm when I glance at it and I decided to work some more. I placed the dish in the sink and started up the computer in my bedroom. As it hummed to life I gathered my equipment and took out the memory chip from its cubicle.

When I leaved through the photos, none of the pictures managed to catch my eye. The images came out too foggy and smeared. There was no way I would hand in that kind of work.

It was a pride of a photographer to only hand in work that he actually liked himself, so I would have to return to Silent Hill the next day in hope that the weather would do me a favor then.

I sighed and got ready for bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I woke up around 9 o'clock the next morning, somewhat surprised that I actually slept in. Normally I would have been up by 7 already, but there wasn't much to be done until my shoot so it didn't really matter.

Throughout the day I cleaned up my apartment and cleared all the previous images from the camera after overlooking them again to make sure there was enough space left, if I felt like going for a few more random pictures.

12 o'clock rolled around and I had washed dishes, scrubbed the bathroom, watered my small indoor plant that I kept on the window sill in my living room and put new sheets onto my bed as well as putting the old ones into the laundry.

Just as I decided to watch some TV to pass the time, the door bell sounded. I was pleasantly surprised after opening the door.

"Henry!" The woman in front of me threw herself into my arms and I embraced her wholeheartedly.

"Eileen, what are you doing here?" The face I looked at was smiling brightly up at me, her cheeks reddened slightly and her teeth still the perfect whites I remembered.

"Oh, can't I just drop by every once in a while?" She looked up at me with wide and innocent brown eyes. I envied her for still being so pure even though we went through hell together.

"Sure you can...But it's unlike you. Normally you would at least call me first..." I let go of her and lead her into the living room.

"Sorry, I'll think about it next time I feel like paying you a visit." She came in without hesitation, something that took her quite a while to manage and smiled up at me again.

"Want some coffee?"

"I'd love some, yes." As I began to fill the coffee can with water to fill it into the machine, Eileen leaned against the counter opposite to me. "How are you, Henry?"

"I'm fine, like always." I offered her a small smile.

"Still having those nightmares?"

"Yeah...You don't?" There was no shame in admitting it.

"They are getting less recent, but of course I do every once in a while." She smoothed a few wrinkles out of her top. "I guess that is the normal way of coping with all that we went through, isn't it?"

"Probably, but it has been quite a while already." I turned around to face her.

"It can only get better, right?" Her glance looked hopeful and I felt the sudden need to reassure her that everything would turn out fine for the both of us.

"Yes." There was a comfortable silence until the coffee machine gave a soft beeping to signal that it finished its task.

I got two cups out of the cabinet, filled them up and brought them over to the side desk in front of my couch. As I put them down, careful not to spill anything, the woman moved over to my side once again.

"So how are you and Shaun doing?" I asked to keep our conversation going. She didn't have a problem with my quietness, I knew, but I liked to take up on the opportunity to check up with her whenever I got the chance to.

"Great actually." She fiddled with the warming cup hold up between her hands. "We are moving together next month."

"That's great." I replied in return. "Well you are always on the move, I guess."

"Well, hopefully it will stop after this. I'd really like to settle down, you know?"

"Sure." I understood her. She had moved out only a few weeks after things were over to get some space from it and I would never hold it against her. However, I had stayed to somehow cope. I was thankful that she visited me, but every once in the while I wondered why she did. Whenever she stood there in front of my door, simply smiling up at me like nothing was wrong, I wondered how she managed to stay calm even though the place was practically a walk down the memory lane.

We spent a few more hours just chatting and I was thankful that Eileen took my thoughts away from the task on hand, even though it was only for a short time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I packed up my stuff hastily. I hadn't found it in myself to kick Eileen out and now I was running late because of that. I could have just skipped, but then I reminded myself that it was better to settle things as soon as possible instead of delaying them further.

Skipping down the stairs several at a time, I gained quite some speed by the point I went out of the door. I barely managed to avoid running into James who was busy cleaning up the leaves that covered most of the ground in front of the entrance.

It was an important task really. Ever since someone actually slipped and hurt himself once here, the apartment complex management made sure to keep it clear to avoid any problems.

He looked just as startled as me, when I skidded to a stop right in front of him. My breath came out in small puffs.

"Oh sorry, James. I'm kind of in a hurry right now." I apologized rather quickly, making sure to reposition the strap of my bag that was about to slip down from my shoulder.

"No problem." He stopped his sweeping for a moment. "Out for a shoot again?"

"Yes. The pictures from yesterday didn't come out as I expected, so I'm redoing them today." We started rather awkwardly at one another until I turned my head and rubbed at the back of my neck embarrassedly. "And I better get going right now.

"Would you mind if I came along? Only if it isn't too much of a bother..." He mumbled something else under his breath, but I didn't quite catch it.

"I don´t really mind." It wasn't in my nature to interrupt people, since I was someone who listened rather well to others, but time was pressing. Some may think I did that to do him a favor. I had a more selfish reason to let him be close – there was no way in hell that I could go to Silent Hill alone again with all my senses still intact.

The night before I had dreamed about Walter and all the victims once again and the reality of it all startled me to an extend that made it impossible to go alone if I had the option not to. My remaining sanity was fragile to begin with after all.

"Are you sure?" Green eyes watched my expression closely.

"Yes, but I want to leave right away, so..." I finished of lamely and grabbed the keys from my pocket.

"No problem." He gathered the tools and stood up. "One second though." The blonde entered the building and put the broom into the storage room. His green jacket was hanging over the stairwell´s railing. He took it and we left.

The drive there wasn't more exciting than the last. The radio tune blocked out the silence as he sat next to me on the passenger seat.

I never questioned his interest in Silent Hill. It felt wrong to stick my nose where it didn't belong. The blonde beside me seemed lost however. Although he was well build and taller than me by at least three inches, the male almost looked vulnerable. His hands clasped together and he squeezed them until his knuckles turned a sickly white.

His eyes were glazed over as he watched the landscape come and pass by outside the window. The closer we got to Silent Hill, the thicker the tale-tell fog seemed. While the thick asphalted streets began to thin out, the skies began to color slowly in the first signs of the incoming sunset.

I caught myself glancing over him more than once. Even in that heavy mood he was handsome. The beauty you see in something old and broken, probably. Terrible guilt hit me as soon as I finished. A lot of people got broken over their life, but he was still young, well older than me, but it didn't seem right anyways.

I pulled the car up on a small parking lot just outside of town. A steep past curled down the hill by its side, trailing around the various trees. We even passed a graveyard on our way to the Toluca Lake.

James was silent the whole time, but his presence calmed me none the less.

When we finally reached our destination I was about to have an asthma attack, not because the path had been exhausting, but rather because I could have sworn I had seen a little dark-blond-haired boy going about before we arrived.

Strangely a familiar claustrophobic feeling tingled in the back of my neck ominously, even though the location was more than spacey. James gazed at the sea or maybe at something he saw in it.

I couldn't really tell for sure, but he seemed lost; Nostalgic as well, but definitely quite emotional. James was the shadow of a man. His face was haunted, his eyes slightly sunken in with despair, as it seemed.

I didn't really know him or much about his past life- our relationship was a fleeting one after all, but the more I saw of him, the less resistible it became to not want to get to know him better

The sight of him visibly hurting like this was breathtaking in a bad way. He was a man that had his pride and will shatter to pieces. Could that really only been the result of Mary´s death? I pondered quietly.

I felt the need to sooth him, to somehow get his mind back to reality right away, because he sunk into his thoughts too much.

"It´s looks peaceful, a quite-" Although I probably knew the dictionary in and out, I often found myself not being able to grasp the words I want to use and ended up sounding either stupid or like a know-it-all. "-special place."

I took of my camera and twisted the cape on the front off. The fog was tinted rose and not as thick as it had been the day before. The water glittered where the skies weren't blocking it and reflected the pattern draw by the fog.

The blonde looked surprised and he as his gaze shifted carefully over to me, it felt like he saw right through me. He turned to face the water again.

I took a few pictures. Lost in my frenzy I got to admit that I caught James on a few of them as well. He was leaning his elbows on the railing, his right leg slightly angled. The male fit into the mood of that place too perfectly to ignore him.

"Did I...say something strange?" He didn't answer and even though I was a rather quiet person myself, I found that fact unnerving and rude- something that was unlikely for me once again. The man seemed to bring out the worst in me.

The gravel crunched under my wary feet as I passed over it, coming up next to James. I took a stance similar to his.

"I was here once with my wife." His voice was soft and thoughtful almost a whispering tone. "She...always wanted to come again some time." He paused and shifted his legs. "But we never got to since she got ill and ..." His head tilted down, his hair fell over his eyes that he covered with one of his big hands anyways. "Mary always said that this is was our special place."

Some minutes ago he must have seen her ghost in me. I felt guilty for reminding him even though I didn't do it on purpose.

"Are you okay?" Retrospective that was an incredible cruel thing to ask and if I could I would have kicked myself for that one. I knew that he wasn't "okay". It took forever if even possible, to get "okay" again. James fixed me with a blank expression and turned to the lake again.

"Yes." He was lying, obviously. We both knew and we both choose to ignore, because it made the whole situation easier to handle.

After finishing talking the setting had gotten even more scenic. James must have thought I was a maniac as I just stood there for half an hour clicking away on my camera. When I got focused on something, I forgot all about my environment; a characteristic trade that made it possible for me to work with crowds. We were silent the rest of the time until I finished and packed up.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him after putting the equipment into my bag pack. "Want one of my sandwiches?"

"If it's alright, I`d take one." I sat down next to him on the bench; he had decided to sit on sometime along my session.

"Of course. I made too many anyways." I handed him one, which he took gratefully with a polite "thank you".

After more depressing silence I finally gathered up my courage to ask him something that's been bugging me since we left.

"James?" He raised his gaze to look at me. "Why did you want to come along?"

"Well...I felt like I had to, really." He set down the half of the food that was still left, seemingly losing all his appetite at once. "You can't run away from your past forever, you know?"

"That's true." After everything was over I had first tried to deny that anything happened at all. It had been weeks of denial until Eileen slapped some sense into me and told me how disrespectful it was towards all of the victims that had died in that hell.

She had been right, although I wished she wasn't. It would have been easier to just ignore it than to actually deal with it, but then again- when was life easy?

"Say...I spoke with my dad this morning and I was wondering..." He began and trailed off right after.

"About what?" I asked politely trying to urge him on.

"Well, about the copy cat case that went down some time ago right in out apartment complex-" He paused as he saw me tense noticeably, but went on after that, probably wanting to get rid of the thoughts. "That you didn't leave you apartment for quite a few days...I just wondered what that was about."

"I was scared to be the next one ending up dead." That was the practiced excuse that had clicked well with everyone he told it to just fine. Right after I stumbled out of the apartment building I had been forced to stay in what felt like forever, I had decided to never talk about it to anyone. It would only end up with me locked up in a asylum anyways.

"Strange. You don't really strike me as a coward." That however was the first time he heard someone say something like that.

"Uh...Well..." I began to stumble over my own thoughts, searching for excuses, but coming out empty handed. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"You would most probably think I'm crazy." In the early state of my experience, I had thought I was hallucinating after all.

"Try me." Startled, I just stared at him. He laid a reassuring hand onto my shoulder and squeezed it slightly, trying to convince me that he wasn't lying to me.

His eyes were a deep forest green; the shadows around his chin a light blond, almost white mass of short hair. Once again his hand patted my shoulder, but I jerked away out of instinct.

My legs felt weak when I stood on them abruptly.

"I think we should go back now. It's getting late..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Since things had quieted down over the last few month since the incident, I dropped my guard and stopped expecting the unexpected.

The morning it happened I was doing my early routine- wake up, shower and eat breakfast while watching the news in the living room. I had another appointment at noon that day and wanted to leave early.

I pushed down the door handle, but nothing happened. When I jammed the key into the lock and twisted it with a jerking motion, I noticed that I hadn't locked unconsciously either. The keys were turned again in my incoming frenzy.

It been nonsense to think so in the first place anyways, since I never locked any doors around my home whenever I was there, even going as far as to often not shutting them.

I pushed against the door again and when there was seemingly no outcome, panic began to bubble up inside of me.

I flung myself against the flimsy wood over and over, but it wasn't giving. It was all explainable; I tried to reason with myself. We had had a change in weather the last few days and the wood deformed and blocked up due to that, but logic didn't do anything for my panic attack.

My shoulder hurt to the point that I couldn't handle causing more damage to it. I tried to settle down, but the ticking of the clock seemed to mock me. The air around me felt stagnant and suffocating.

:::

It was a morning just as any other. Another morning he woke up alone in his bed with a cold sweat covering him and the blankets a tangled mess around him.

After he had shaved and washed himself in the bathroom, he walked into the kitchen where his father was already sitting at the table reading the most recent newspaper.

"Good morning, James." The elder man sat as he looked up at his son.

"Morning, dad." The blond male answered and sat down with a newly poured cup of coffee next to his father.

He lifted the pages the other already finished off of the table and began to flip through them absentmindly.

"Where have you been yesterday? Not that you have to check up with your old man or anything..."

"I was with Henry. We went to Silent Hill..."

"Are you okay?" The newspaper was put down onto the table as James was observed closely.

"Sure." The blonde took a sip from his coffee. The conversation of last night and its sudden ending was still clocked inside his head, not leaving him. He didn't really believe that Henry was a nut case. No, the other man seemed sane, but then again he did as well.

Maybe he should just forget about it, but something told him that he really shouldn't let it go that easily. He took another thoughtful gulp.

"If you say so..." He looked his son over once more, still worried for his well-being. "Oh, that reminds me. The inhabitant of room 312 came by this morning. Her sink broke again."

"I'll take care of it." James dressed up and went out the door.

Room 312, Rebecca Nightville, she somehow managed to break her sink over and over again in the last few months, it seemed. It was only after the third time and an offer for dinner that he got a little suspicious. Even more so when she answered her door only dressed in her underwear some time ago.

When he passed room 303, his thoughts and his body came to an abrupt halt there. He leaned closer to the door and just listened.

The sound of sniffing and sobbing came out of the room and James didn't waste any time and knocked on the door softly.

"Henry? Henry is that you?"

"James...?" The voice from inside sounded desperate.

"Open the door please."

"I can't..." He answered.

"What do you mean you can't?" James tried to stay as calm as he could manage.

"I mean I CAN'T! The lock is jammed or something." The other sounded frantic; panicked even. His words came out in a fast rush of loud words.

"Hold up, I'll get you out right away." He turned to leave and Henry must have heard it too, since he began to talk urgently.

"Please don't leave." There was a short bang on the door. "I think I'm going into shock..." He mumbled almost as a quiet afterthought.

"Okay, get away from the door." The blonde male waited about half a minute before kicking the wood. It didn't give until he repeated it a second time.

As he entered cautiously he noticed the small dots of blood on the floor in the doorway.

"Henry?" He called into the room.

"Yeah?" The shorter male whispered back in a hushed sound.

"Where are you?"

"Behind the kitchen counter." James walked a few more steps into the home and found Henry hunched up and pressed close to the fake wood.

"Hey." There was no answer. The other reminded him of a frightened child so he kneeled down close to him only to be wrapped up in surprising strong limbs and pulled close to the warm body. The sniffling got louder; more out of relief than the still lingering fear. "It's okay now."

"I thought I was going to die." The brown-haired seemed to suck in my scent, clinging to me like I was his only chance of survival in this.

"Are you claustrophobic?"

"No. I just have an issue with locked up doors…" Henry looked ashamed as far as he could tell, but it was hard to get a clear look when he was still clinging so tightly.

"Does that have something to do with the Copycat Case by any chance?" His surprised gasp carried through the room. James began to think about the newfound information.

He told me locked himself in to keep himself safe, but how could me manage that when he freaked out over a blocked front door? Unless, he didn't have it back then, but that would mean that he picked it up during the case.

Another thought struck the blond.

What if Henry never actually wanted to stay in his apartment in the first place?

:::

"Were you held hostage, Henry?"

"What?" James smelled faintly of soap. It was calming. He held me in his arms like a cage would keep a bird captive. I liked that thought. Inside there I could be safe from everything.

"Obviously you were lying to me yesterday." My head shot up from his chest and I looked at him with big eyes. "There is no way in hell you would willingly lock yourself up; not with this fear of yours and not with your personality." Silence stretched between them. "I know that you don't really know me, but if it counts for anything, I won't judge you for what you tell me."

"You will." Of course he would. Heck, I would tell anyone that told me that nightmarish story that they were completely out of their mind if I hadn't been there myself. It was irrational; simply impossible to imagine.

"I won't." The blond seemed like he meant it. He looked at me as if he could simply figure out all of my secrets that way.

"There is no way that you won't think I'm crazy." I averted my eyes and gathered myself, trying to make another escape.

"Try me." His hand caught mine. His skin felt warm against my clammy own. "Just trust me. Please, Henry."

I sighed. My legs were wobbly when I walked over to the couch and made a motion for him to follow after me. Then I sucked in another deep breath and began.

"Did you ever hear the name Walter Sullivan before?"


End file.
